


Cut Off

by OCWotchny



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Gay Teenagers, Homophobia, I told myself I could write a better highschool AU, M/M, Slow Burn, also fuck off i love this pairing its better than the ones jack actually has available to him, this is what happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8786581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OCWotchny/pseuds/OCWotchny
Summary: Morgan just wants to graduate. He just wants to get through high school without anything getting worse, so he keeps his head down and tries not to stick out.That is, until Lena Oxton enters his life, and opens him up again to the world and the people that he tried to shut out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey i hope you all enjoy this really gay fic about my kids + my gay ass oc

It’s his junior year. It’s supposed to be a fun one.

Prom is this year. He starts driving this year. There are job opportunities, college applications, campus visits-- all things that were supposed to begin happening in his eleventh year of highschool.

So far, Morgan had done none of those things, and his year has been just as entertaining as any other; that is to say,  _ not very _ .

Strangely, he was content with this. Since freshman year when The Event happened, Morgan’s life had gone on the downlow, and there was never anything particularly exciting for him to take part in. He had a few friends-- more like acquaintances-- which made it a little more bearable. They were someone to talk to in classes, at least. His lab partner, Jack Morrison, was decent enough, and while he was a bit dense(and not at all meant for chemistry), he didn’t seem to have any problems talking to the token quiet queer kid. Calc was kind of nice; Fareeha and Angela were sweet, and Morgan liked their company, but sometimes the unspoken romantic tension between them made the teenager a little sick to his stomach(while also being a main source of migraines-- Angela was probably his closest friend, and their hours-long conversations about her conflicting feelings for Fareeha made Morgan so unbearably frustrated that sometimes he couldn’t bare talking to either of them).

Other than those, and a few more people in various other places, Morgan’s life was pretty quiet. He rarely, if at all, had friends or people over(Jack came over once to finish an assignment, and it caused such a fiasco in the house that he had been hesitant to bring anyone over again, especially boys), and extracurriculars had been off limits for the last two years. It was both inexplicably lonely, and mercilessly boring.

On the bright side, he uses all of his free time to do homework, and beyond that he reads voraciously. It’s done wonders for his grades, and apparently his overall ability with the pen as well. Maybe the most exciting thing he’d done in the last year was when he entered a writing competition and came first place in the state. After that, he’d realized that he’d found something he  _ enjoyed _ , which was scribbling down his thoughts on paper with a pen. A little urge from his parents pushed him to find a way to share it with others, and he’d started writing letters. At first, the practice had felt a little creepy, but he got past it, and justified it to himself. Angela and Fareeha were both active pen-pals(despite seeing them every day), and while it had been a little weird to get into, they all grew accustomed to the practice because of the fun, refurbished aesthetic, and the fact that hey, everyone liked getting a letter in the mail, right? It was a quiet form of enjoyment, in the end, and Morgan took what he could get.

The small, somewhat-stable world Morgan had constructed for himself would be completely demolished, however, with a new arrival.

An exchange student is coming in from Europe. England, to be exact-- it’s been all the rage in the high school for the past week; though the only reason Morgan knows is because they’re supposed to be in about four of his seven classes. It’s all anyone talks about, and he’d gotten a little sick of it, truth be told. The way he sees it is, there’s a large chance this person ends up being an absolute, raging asshole, and who wants another one of those in this place? Things were miserable enough.

If he was being extra  _ extra _ honest with himself, however, a teeny tiny part of him hoped the exchange student was nice, and that they’d be friends. If he was really lucky, maybe he’d suffered enough, and God would be extra nice and make it a hot, gay british guy. But just a friend would be okay.

~*~

The day the student arrives is an absolute train wreck. Everyone is absolutely ecstatic over them, and Morgan is oh-so lucky enough that they were in his first period Chemistry-- it was a lab day, too, which may have been a blessing or a curse. It depended on how the mandatory study-hall went.

She is very much not what he expected, at all.

The student is a short, lively-looking girl, with spiked-up chocolate hair and a pair of dark, impenetrable shades that sat on top of her bangs while she was inside. She had on a bomber-jacket with a few pins and sewn-on patches advertising her home flag, and a pair of ridiculous, orange-ombre leggings. Her shoes were the only normal thing about her, but even then-- not everyone wears a pair of black and pink tennis shoes to school.

Of course, it’s just Morgan’s luck that she gets seated with him and Jack.

As soon as she sits down at their long table, her mouth is flying a mile a minute; it takes all of Morgan’s focus just to keep up with what she’s saying.

“Hiya, loves! Nice ta meet the both of ya’! ‘Names Lena Oxton, but you lot can call me Tracer! What’re we doin here today, eh? Never was very good at it, but I bloody love chem! All the mixing and shite is always so exciting-- You know, back in primary school, we had this whole unit on different chemicals, and the teacher actually blew something up! ‘Singed her hair a little bit, but other than that it was rad! Do we blow stuff up in this class, you-- Oh, bollocks, I forgot; what’s the both of ya’s names? Sorry, I went on a bit of a roll there!”

While she speaks, there’s this ever-present smile on her face that refuses to leave. It throws Morgan a bit off, and even Jack seems a little startled at all of the enthusiasm.

He’s the first one to speak, running his fingers through messy, bright blonde spikes. “Er, yeah.  Nice  to meet you-- welcome to our school!” Jack shoots her a grin. Morgan sniffs. “I’m Jack Morrison. It’s a pleasure.”

Morgan opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn’t get the chance, because Jack is clapping a hand on his shoulder and jostling him.

“And this here-- Is Morgan! He doesn’t talk much.”

The boy in question swats at Jack’s hand and frowns. “I do too talk! You didn’t even let me say anything,  _ Jackass _ .” He takes a breath, and focuses on Tracer. “Anyways-- hi, I’m Morgan. It’s, er, nice to meet you.” He offers a crooked half smile and a shy wave. Lena makes a noise of delight with a small ‘ _ Aw’ _ , while Jack tries not to look in his direction.

“Pleasure’s all mine, boys! Nice to meet the both of ya!” A laugh, and the brit turns in her chair so she’s facing the larger of the two boys. “So! You first--  Wha’dyou do, Jacky? You’re tall, and thick enough to hold five a’ me; you gotta play a sport, right?”

Jack gives a nervous laugh, but Morgan is already back in the swing of things with his normal, sarcastic self.

“Oh, Jack plays  _ all _ of the sports,” he gloats, sending a smug grin over to the flustered teenager. “He’s head of the varsity football team, our champion golfer,  _ and  _ a gold medalist swimmer,” he brags, nudging the blonde with his shoulder. Jack stammers out a small reply in a vain attempt to seem, but is unable to formulate an actual sentence. Morgan continues. “He’s the pride and joy of our school, to be honest. Not a total douche, either! He’s practically a hero; especially if you ask the freshman... Or the girls.”

Tracer, unbothered by the numerous accolades, claps him on the shoulder with a cheery smile. “Well, look at me! First day here, and I make friends with the superstar! I’ll have to make sure to come to all of your games and whatnot, yeah?” Lena turns to Morgan then, setting her sights on him. “And what about you? What’s in your free time?”

Morgan falls quiet once more, then shrugs again with a shake of his head. “Nothing much-- I just read a lot, I guess.” Lena scrunches up her nose at this, seemingly disappointed by the lack of information, but Jack pulls his wits about him just in time to interrupt.

“He’s captain of the wrestling team!” He blurts, and Morgan grimaces in irritation at the subject brought up. “Well, er-- he  _ was _ , at least. I… Uh, I am, now,” Jack stops, not liking how it was turning towards him again. “But, he could still probably wipe the floor with me! I’ve been the same size since the seventh grade, but back then he was just as tall as you are, and was able to throw me without breaking a sweat.”

Tracer’s disappointment completely drains from her face, replaced with a look of awe. “Bloody hell, really?! I couldn’t lift you if our lives depended on it!”  She whips on Morgan, eyes incredulous and demanding for answers. “Why’d you quit?! You sound like you were  _ amazing! _ ”

Morgan bites his lip, trying unsuccessfully to not look bothered by the topic. “I, er, had other things to do. I needed time to study, I guess.”

Tracer blows a raspberry at the answer, but Jack chimes in yet again. “Yeah, and you got super damn smart while you were out! You won a  _ competition _ in the  _ state _ for your  _ writing! _ Ms. Kalsor had us all take a look at it last year when you were out, and it was actually perfect.” He huffs, giving Morgan a disapproving glare for not giving himself enough credit. “Not to mention, you’re, uh, kind of the only reason I’m passing this class with a C.” At the last part, the blonde gets sheepish, reaching up to scratch the back of his head and laugh nervously. Morgan at least has a begrudging smile now, and the bridge of his nose has a rosy hue that Tracer can  _ just _ make out in the crappy classroom lighting(which she tells herself to remember for the future).

“What about you?” Morgan begins, taking the attention off of himself. “What’d you do back where you’re from?”

Lena beams at the question, and leans back in her chair with a nonchalant attitude. “Me? Oh, nothing unusual-- ran track, jumped around buildings, got into mischief,  _ flew planes-- _ ”

“Woah, woah,  _ woah,” _ Jack stops, holding up his hands. “You flew  _ planes? _ ”

Tracer crosses her arms and sits back up in her seat with a cheeky nod. “Sure did! Well, partially-- I was a co-pilot to my dear ol’ dad, whenever he’d take me on a joyride! Tha’s why we’re over here, now-- he got a job at the airport about twenty miles off, and it paid big bucks, so he asked my mum and me if we were okay with moving and brought us all out here!”

Morgan snorts, but grins nonetheless. “Quick, there’s still time-- get on one of your planes and go back home before it’s too late.” Tracer frowns, looking to Jack for clarification. The quarterback rolls his eyes, shaking his head and glaring at his lab partner. “It’s nothing-- he’s just being dramatic. You’ll like it here, Lena.”

“I hope so,” she giggles, falling silent for a second before her attention shifts and she perks up with something else. “Say-- Seein’ as how you both are my new best friends, whaddya say you show me around after school, yeah? A gal’s gotta know what there is to do, you know?”

Maybe it’s how cheerful she is; maybe it’s her bright, contagious grin; maybe it’s that fucking  _ ridiculous _ accent, but Morgan feels like he has no choice but to say yes, even if he did have plans for the afternoon(he doesn’t, but still). Jack must have been feeling the same thing he was, because they lock eyes for a second and the athlete gives him this confused, almost desperate expression before either one of them answers.

“Er, I’d love to,” Morgan stammers, biting his lip when Lena looks over expectantly. “B-but, well, the thing is, you have to drive to get to a lot of places, and I don’t have a ca--”

“I can drive!” Jack blurts, too nice to be able to deal with the growing look of disappointment on the brit’s face. She brightens up almost immediately, and he curses himself for shooting himself in the foot. “A white pickup-- It’ll sit us all, easy. We can go get something to eat and roam around the Galleria-- there’s some good stuff there, I guess.”

Morgan is shocked, and Tracer is absolutely enthralled. She lets out an excited, “ _ Yessss,” _ and punches Jack in the shoulder playfully with a huge grin.

“Then it’s settled! I’ll look for you in the parking lot, yeah?”

~*~

Math is a disaster before it even starts.

They’re all given a paper to work on, and it’s assigned as homework for that night as well. Naturally, nobody spends any time doing it, and four papers sit untouched on desks while Morgan introduces the newcomer to his two best friends.

Lena latches on to Angela and Fareeha like a duckling does to the first thing it sees. She’s flirting with them almost instantaneously, which throws Morgan for a spin. He feels like a single mother in a department store, trying to keep track of her; if this is how their friendship is going to work out, he’s going to need to keep tylenol in his bag.

Tracer is currently fussing over Angela, her head propped up on one arm while she tosses out compliments left and right. She had just finished learning about Fareeha’s basketball career, and when it had become obvious she wasn’t getting anywhere with the jock, she had turned her attention to the other girl… With no more luck than before. Angela takes it all in stride, as if she’d been through it a million times. She speaks easily, as though the flirting wasn’t even a thing, which seems to make Lena want to try harder, if anything.

“You’re hair is gorgeous, Ang’! What on earth do you use?” While she speaks, she runs her fingers through a few tresses on the side. Angela flushes on instinct, but doesn’t seem embarrassed otherwise. Fareeha looks vaguely envious in the desk behind her.

“I put a lot of time into taking care of it-- I try to get it treated at least twice a month,” she admits with a giggle. “It gets a little pricey, but I don’t mind using my money on it. What about yours, Lena? You know, I’ve always wanted to try and do something cool with my hair and cut it short or shave the back, but I can never bring myself to part with it.”

Fareeha snorts. “You had short hair when we were kids, remember? It only went down to about here.” She gestures forward, lightly sweeping her fingers underneath Angela’s jaw. Morgan, who had been silent the whole time, gives a quiet groan at the display, preparing himself.

“... I thought it was very pretty,” Fareeha continues, leaning forward and lowering her voice as though she were telling a secret. She needed an opportunity to show Lena who she was messing with, and this was a perfect moment to swoop in. Angela doesn’t respond for a second, getting sheepish and staring out of the corner of her eyes-- a far more desirable reaction than what the track star had been getting.

“... I guess it was, wasn’t it?” Whether she meant short or pretty, no one would ever know.

Tracer, thank god, breaks the moment up before it can get worse.

“ _ I _ have to use a fuckton of gel to get my hair to stay like this! I go through a jar a week, cross my heart. It’s a little pricey, and me mum gets a little pissed whenever I have to beg her to get me some.”

Angela chuckles, and raises an eyebrow in question. “Why not buy your own?”

“Too young for a job, mate!” Lena chirps, scratching the back of her head. “Gotta wait a few months for that-- can’t wait to have my own money, though. God only knows how much I need it..” Another chuckle. Angela and Fareeha tilt their heads in curiosity, and Morgan raises an eyebrow.

“... How old are you?” he asks. “You can’t be  _ that _ young, you’re a--”

“I’m fifteen years old, love!” She grins. “I’m a sophomore, in you guys’ school system.”

The other three all drop their jaws. Angela is the first to speak. “.... You’re so…  _ Little _ … _! _ ”

The runner snorts and rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on! You can’t be  _ that _ much older than I am! How old are all of you?”

“Seventeen,” Says Angela.

“I’m seventeen in two months,” Morgan waves his hand.

“Sixteen. I skipped a grade to get into my junior year,” Fareeha explains.

Tracer looks shocked, to say the least. “Well, bloody hell! I suppose that makes me the baby, doesn’t it?” she jokes, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.

Fareeha chuckles. “Yeah, it does-- but that’s fine, It’s good to have a few different ages around with us. It makes hanging out that much more fun, you know?”

Angela nods along with Morgan in agreement, before Tracer lights up and turns to Morgan. “Hey, Morgan! How old is ‘ol Jacky?”

Fareeha puffs her cheeks at his name, and exhales a huge breath of air in thought, widening her eyes once while remembering the man. “Wait-- ‘Jacky’? You mean Jack Morrison? How do you know him?”

Lena brings her legs up into her chair, crossing them together and turning her attention to the basketball player. “We’re lab partners. Just met him last class. Why?” Fareeha shakes her head, scratching her chin. “Just surprising to hear his name, is all. Let’s see, he’s… God I can’t remember. It’s been ages since we last talked.”

Angela looks at her then, brows knit together in interest. “Why did you talk to him? Nothing against him, but I’ve never heard you bring him up.”

Fareeha shrugs. “My mother is friends with his parents. He was over all of the time when we were really little-- before I met you, I think. He stopped talking to me in eighth grade though, when I got up to the middle school. By then I had already found you guys, so it didn’t bother me, but I never really saw much from him after that, other than when Mother brings something over to them, or if he ever stops by for anything.” A moment of silence as Fareeha sits there, eyebrows knit together in concerned thought. Shaking her head free of the thought, she perks up and turns to Morgan. “What about you? Do you know?”

The question catches the writer off guard, and he hums while wracking his brain for the answer. When he notices Lena growing visibly less patient, he answers.

“Hmm… Let’s see. I believe he is…. Nineteen? Maybe eighteen. He’s a senior, I know that.”

Finally, bursting as though she had been having trouble keeping it locked up, Lena speaks again. “Great! That’s a… Huge range of ages, actually. Which means the more fun for all of us!” Then, she turns to Fareeha and Angela, grabbing one of each of their hands in her own.

“You both should come hang out with us after school today! Morgan’s going to show me around the mall and whatnot, and it’d be cool to have you both there! Come meet us by Jack’s truck-- he said he’d drive.”

Morgan grimaces, displeased with her invitation. “Tracer, it’s not your car! You can’t just--”

“It’ll be  _ fiiine _ ,” She drawls, waving her hand. “Trust me! He won’t have an issue with it!”

Fareeha and Angela look at each other unsure, while Morgan hangs his head in disbelief. “... If you’re positive he’s okay with it,” Angela begins, turning back to Lena. “... I wouldn’t mind tagging along. I’ve been meaning to get out to the mall, anyways. There’s a coat I want for winter. What about you, Fareeha?”

The egyptian teenager shrugs again. “If he doesn’t care, I’m game. It’ll be a little weird to see him again, I guess.”

Tracer cheers, pumping her fist in the air. “Yeah! Just watch-- Jacky’s a sweet boy, I’m positive he won’t mind at all.”

Morgan just lets his head sink lower onto the desk, wishing and praying that someone will bring him an advil, and that he won’t be yelled at when they all see each other again.

~*~

Somehow, Morgan makes it through the rest of the day without Lena pushing him over the edge. They don’t have the last few classes together, so the two agree to meet at Tracer’s locker so Morgan can take her to the parking lot.

She’s waiting for him by the time he manages to get out of class, that same cheery smile on her face that he’d left her with. The runner gives him a little wave, tugging her shades over her eyes when he comes close.

“So, love, ready to hit up the town?”

Morgan can’t help the small laugh that escapes. “Slow down, there-- we’re just going to the mall, not sneaking into a club.”

Lena tilts her head back, letting out a long “ _ Oooh,” _ sound, nodding in understanding. “Right, of course-- that’s next week, right?”

He rolls his eyes, but plays along. “Yeah, sure. I’m getting the fake ID’s this Friday.” A sharp chuckle, and a shake of his head, before tossing his shoulder towards the exit. “Ready to head out?”

Tracer giggles, extending her arm as an invitation for Morgan to loop his in it. The writer stares at it for a second, before taking it and making his way down the hallway.

They pick up Angela on the way there, and spot Fareeha already leaning against the large, white truck when they get outside. She’s just finishing a phone conversation when they come up, and pockets her phone with a friendly grin.

“Looks like we’re all here! Now we just need to wait for our driver,” Lena exclaims, clapping Fareeha on the shoulder. Morgan folds his arms at that, and sends a frown down at the girl.

“You  _ did _ ask him about them hopping along, right? He’s not going to be surprised when he comes down, is he?”

Lena doesn’t answer, instead smiling up at the boy without a word. Morgan narrows his eyes in accusation.

“ _ Right?” _

“Uh, you want me to say ‘yes’, right love?”

“ _ Lena! _ ”

Before he can get onto her about it, someone clears their throat behind him to catch his attention. Morgan straightens up and turns, coming face-to-face with a very bewildered looking Jack Morrison. Even though it wasn’t really his fault, he still feels like he’s been caught red-handed, leaving him speechless. All he can do is purse his lips together and try not to look foolish. Fareeha and Angela sit quietly in the background, unsure of what he’s going to react with.

The athlete gives a small grunt of a laugh, raising his eyebrow curiously. “This… Is a little bigger than what I expected. Uh, Lena--?”

“They’re just friends I made today! I figured it’d be more fun if they came-- I didn’t want to be the only chick, ya know?” She bursts, giggling nervously. “This is Fare--”

“I know who she is,” Jack interrupts, unable to help the laugh that escapes at how fidgety the runner seemed. “Long time no see, Pharah. Jesus, you’re tall.” He turns his attention to Angela, offering a charming grin. “Although, I don’t believe we’ve met…?”

“Angela Ziegler,” the woman offers, smiling in return. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Morrison.”

At the sound of her name, Jack’s eyes dart to Fareeha and go wide, as though he’s just realized something important.

“Oh,  _ Angela! _ I’ve heard of you! You’re the one who Phara--”

What Jack knew of Angela Ziegler, the world will never know. He’s silenced right before it gets out, because it’s right then that Fareeha decides to channel her inner bro and throw an arm around Jack’s shoulders, letting out a booming, deep laugh. Morgan notices her grip is a little tight, and snorts.

“Yeah, that’s the one, Morrison! The  _ friend _ I made way back in middle school! Good for you to finally meet her, haha! Man, it’s been  _ too long _ since we last talked, Jack!”

Tracer, who had gotten back into the swing of things when Jack seemed to be comfortable with the other two girls, giggles at the display between the two jocks. “Good to see you all get along, then! I don’t suppose this means they can tag along?”

Jack, who has on the biggest, most-awful grin while Fareeha sends him silent threats of death, nods his head once agreement. “Sure thing, Lena-- There’s plenty of room. You guys ready?”

A cheer sounds out from Lena, who opens the doors to the back and gestures at Fareeha and Angela. “Alright! C’mon, how about us girls sit in the back?”

Morgan keeps quiet, but can’t help a breathy laugh through his nose at the excitement. He shakes his head while he climbs into the front seat, smiling more than he has in a long time.

~*~

Morgan is exhausted by the time he gets home. They had ran around the mall for four hours, checking out various stores and restaurants and boutiques. Tracer proved to be  _ insatiable _ , dragging the group to anything that caught her attention. Her favorite thing to do was take Angela to any high-end clothing store and have her try on clothes, mostly because of the prospect of seeing a pretty girl put on nice things(something which Fareeha also appreciated, Morgan had noticed). She’d even managed to convince Jack to try on a few things, and by the end of the night he’d had his own selection of shirts and jackets in his tailgate, along with a pair of shades that matched the ones she had on.

(Morgan tried very hard to ignore how handsome he looked in said glasses, and ended up not talking to him the rest of the day. He was the last one to get dropped of, which made for a very awkward ride.)

Not an hour after he gets home at eight, and his phone is buzzing hard enough that it lifts up and moves across his nightstand. Looking up from where he had planted his face in his pillows, Morgan glares at his phone and wonders who the hell could be blowing it up so violently. After a solid 15 seconds of waiting to see if it would stop, he finally relents and grabs for it.

A loud groan resonates through his room when he sees forty notifications on his lock screen. Sliding his fingers across the screen, he scrolls through his messages in what appears to be a group chat.

_ (281-883-0932) Hi everyone! I went and switched my phone number today finally, and grabbed angie and fareeha. They got you other two in here :p _

_ (Angelface) Hello, Lena! _

_ (Basketcase) whats up? _

_ (281-883-0932) Hey all! _

_ (832-808-6609) ok whos who _

_ (832-808-6609) jack btw _

_ (Angelface) Hello, Jack! _

_ (You) Oh my god do any of you chill _

_ (You) Let me get names in first PLEASE _

_ (Basketcase) yo jack, what’s good? _

_ (Basketcase) also morgan chill _

_ (Seven eleven) Yeah morgan, chick out! _

_ (Seven eleven) chill* _

_ (Angelface) *eyes emoji* _

_ (You) *eyes emoji* _

_ (Jackass) i dont get it _

_ (Jackass) y *eyes emoji* _

_ (Jackass) what do we c _

_ (Basketcase) the truth, if you *eyes emoji* hard enough _

_ (Jackass) wtf _

_ (Seven eleven) Its nothing!!!!!! Shut up!!!!!!!! Thx _

_ (Jackass) k _

_ (Jackass) ? _

_ (Angelface) LOL _

Morgan snickers, and then clicks on Jack’s contact to send him a message.

_ (You) Hey i wanted to apologize for earlier _

_ (You) You kinda got stuck with all of us for the day lol _

Morgan sets his phone down and leaves the room to use the bathroom. When he returns, Jack is just then replying, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at the messages.

_ (Jackass) dont sweat it man! i had fun today and it was nice 2 actually c u outside of class for once haha. we should get together again sometime _

_ (Jackass) lena and the others r pretty cool 2 u no.  we should do it again _

_ (Jackass) also y *eyes emoji* _

_ (Jackass) they keep doing it _

_ (You) ofc! i had a good time honestly. sorry for being quiet on the way back haha didnt know what to say. _

_ (You) also dont worry about it _

He switches back to the group chat, and flares his nostrils at what he scrolls through, face heating up.

_ (Jackass) dont sweat it man! i had fun today and it was nice 2 actually c u outside of class for once haha. we should get together again sometime _

_ (Jackass) shit wrong chat _

_ (Seven eleven) OOOOOO WHO YA TEXTIN JACKY _

_ (Jackass) morgan ? _

_ (Angelface) *eyes emoji* _

_ (Basketcase) *eyes emoji* _

_ (Jackass) wtf y _

_ (Seven eleven) *eyes emoji* _

_ (Angelface) *eyes emoji* *eyes emoji* _

_ (Jackass) what does that mean _

_ (Jackass) *eyes emoji* _

_ (Jackass) im lost _

_ (Seven eleven) Dont worry about it jacky!!! Just keep texting him! _

_ (Basketcase) *eyes emoji* _

_ (You) ill kill all three of you i swear to god _

With an irritated, embarrassed groan, Morgan throws his phone into his pillows, curling up and trying to ignore the constant vibrating.

He doesn’t, of course, and stays up until late in the night talking to his new group of friends.


	2. Chapter 2

_ (Seven eleven) MORNING NERDS _

_ (Basketcase) yo! _

_ (Angelface) Good morning, Lena! _

_ (Seven eleven) We’re all getting together today right?? _

_ (Seven eleven) Its been a few days since we last did and im craving fast food! _

_ (Jackass) am i driving again _

_ (Jackass) can i at least hear a “please take us places jack” bc i did not  _

_ (You) every time you people wake me up before my alarm is another time i consider locking myself back in the closet and never coming back out ever _

_ (Seven eleven) Pleaaaaase jacky??? _

_ (Jackass) sorry _

_ (Basketcase) you sound pissy, morgan. _

_ (Basketcase) i got a text at 1... what time did you sleep? _

_ (Jackass) ya ya whatever ill take you _

_ (You) 3:30 kms _

_ (Angelface) Morgan! Why were you up that late? _

_ (You) CHEM ASSIGNMENT _

_ (Seven eleven) I finished it at 2, haha _

_ (Jackass) WHAT CHEM ASSIGNMENT _

_ (Jackass) morgan _

_ (Jackass) morgan _

_ (Jackass) morgan _

_ (Jackass) morgan _

_ (You) the one from yesterday? _

_ (Jackass) morgan _

_ (You) what _

_ (You) WHAt _

_ (Jackass) morgan pls ill die send me the answers pls _

_ (You) youre buying me food today. _

_ (Angelface) Jack! _

_ (Angelface) Do your own work!  _

_ (Jackass) DEAL _

_ (Basketcase) heh _

_ (Basketcase) if we head out ill be late btw. I have practice. _

_ (Jackass) same _

_ (Seven eleven) What??? How long?? _

_ (Jackass) 5:30 _

_ (Basketcase) 5 _

_ (You) we’ll wait for you. _

_ (Angelface) I have work right after school till about then anyways. Pick me up? _

_ (Jackass) ya sure _

_ (You) i want my fucking fries, jack _

_ (Seven eleven) Morgan you better not leave me after school! _

_ ~*~ _

The instant Morgan steps into his first class, he’s being showered with praise from Jack. If he hadn’t stayed up doing the very work he gave the man, he’d find it funny. Instead, it’s a little irritating.

“Holy  _ shit _ , dude,” Jack groans, rubbing circles around his temples to ease his panic. “You have no idea how much this saved my ass. I didn’t even know we  _ had _ any work.”

Morgan snorts, and leafs through his papers to pull out his own assignment. “I’m not giving it next time, ass,” he says, yanking out the packet with a huff. “... And I want those fries after school. If we don’t go anywhere, they’re delivered to my door by eight.”

Tracer trudges through the door at that moment, sluggishly dragging her body to the desk they all three shared and taking a seat between the two boys. Without so much as a ‘good morning’, her head falls forward with a loud smack on to the table, accentuated afterwards when her sunglasses slide forward off of her forehead and hit the surface with a quieter ‘clink!’. 

Jack looks at her, then slides his eyes over to the exhausted-looking Morgan, and does his best to choke down a laugh.

“I’ll do you one better,” he says, covering his mouth to hide the small chuckle that escapes at the sight. “I’ll take us all to the Starbucks that just opened. I’ll get you a hot chocolate and a muffin.”

Morgan glares at him, but the bags under his eyes make him seem less threatening than he should be. Either way, he’s satisfied with the plan, and lets his head slowly float down so it rests on Lena’s shoulder. None of them say a word for about a minute, until Lena gives a shaky fist pump into the air.

“I fucking  _ love _ hot chocolate,” she mutters, then drops her arm right back down.

~*~

Lunch is quiet that day, as Morgan uses it mostly to rest. Angela sits next to him, chattering away with Tracer (who had power napped through the first three classes of the day, and was back to her old self). 

“So, Angie, where do you work again? I don’t think you told me when you mentioned it last week,” she babbles, only stopping every now and again to take a bite out of her sandwich (peanut butter and honey, Morgan could smell it). Angela hums while crunching on her salad, holding up a finger as she swallowed before speaking. 

“I’m just a waitress at a small diner up the road,” she answers. “You came in a few days ago, if I remember correctly! I was in the back washing dishes, so I didn’t get to say hi, but it was nice to see you step in regardless.”

Tracer pauses in thought for a minute, before lighting up at the memory. “Oh! _Oh!_ _That_ place! The one with the really good pie!” She trails on from there.

On the other side of Morgan sat Mei, a lovely girl with a knack for science. She was a junior, like Morgan and Angela, and while they didn’t hang out outside of school, they got along and the girl had needed a place to sit at lunch. She was currently staring out of the window, eyes tracing the path of the falling leaves as they flitted about in the late fall air. A gust throws a few up in the air from the ground, and she can’t help but smile at the sight.

“.... Do you think it will snow soon? I can’t wait for it-- maybe this year, there will be enough to go sledding!” She asks herself, bringing her juice up to her lips and sipping from the straw. Morgan, to her surprise, sits up and watches out of the glass with her, sucking in a yawn before responding. 

“Mm… I heard it wouldn’t come in until late November. Sorry, Mei.” A huff, and he lets his head fall into his palm. “... Maybe it’ll snow on my birthday. That would be neat.”

Tracer, who sits on the other side of the table, hones in on his conversation. “When’s that, love? Coming up soon, I hope!” 

Morgan shakes his head. “No, sorry. December eighteenth-- it’s a Saturday this year.” Tracer beams, the gears in her head already turning. Angela sighs. 

“We gotta do somethin’, love! I say, we throw you a party,” she chirps, leaning forward in her excitement.

Morgan waves his hand with a frown. “Sorry, but I can’t. My parents make cookies that day-- it’s not the most fun thing, but it’s tradition, I guess. We do it every year on my birthday,” Morgan says, trailing off for a second before shrugging. “... I get snickerdoodles, though. They’re my favorite.”

Now it’s Lena’s turn to frown, confusion painted across her face. “What the hell is a  _ snickerdoodle? _ ”

Everyone stops and stares at her, faces wrenched in looks of horror or disgust.

Mei completely steamrolls through the brit, ignoring her question entirely. “My favorite is chocolate chip-- Simple, but delicious.”

Tracer waves her hand. “Oi! Is anyone going to answer me?”

Angela proves to be just as harsh as Mei, moving right through her. “I like the oatmeal raisin ones, personally. They’re not too sweet, and it’s hard to bake them wrong enough that they aren’t soft and chewy.”

Tracer pulls out her phone and starts typing.

“We always make a bunch of those,” Morgan says, straightening up and eyeing Angela first, then Mei. “Nobody in my house eats chocolate except for me, so we rarely make a lot of chocolate chips. A huge disappointment, honestly.”

Angela’s phone buzzes underneath her arm. She checks it, and snorts.

_ (Lena Oxton) WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK IS A SNICKERDOODLE????? _

_ (You) It’s just a type of cookie! Maybe Morgan will make one for you. _

_ (Lena Oxton) Oh!! My god! _

_ (You) ? _

_ (Lena Oxton) We should all go to his house on his birthday  _

_ (Lena Oxton) And make cookies with him! _

_ (You) Lena, I don’t think that’s the best idea… _

_ (Lena Oxton) TOO LATE I’M TEXTING JACKY NOW _

Angela frowns, but clicks her phone off without pressing the matter. Two weeks of friendship had taught her that when Lena got like this, it was best to just let her go.

( _ You) JACKY I HAVE AN IDEA FOR MORGANS BIRTHDAY _

_ (jacky!!) wat _

_ (jacky!!) omg was that today _

_ (jacky!!) fuck i feel bad now bc i asked him 4 answers and didnt even say happy bday _

_ (You) No! Its in a month. Dont worry, youre fine! _

_ (jacky!!) o ok _

_ (jacky!!) so whats the idea _

_ (You) Apparently he bakes cookies on that day. We should all go over and then bake with him but actually REALLY bake a cake that he has after we all finish _

_ (jacky!!) thats cool and all but i have never baked a cake ever _

_ (You) Angela _

_ (jacky!!) ah _

Tracer looks up from her phone just as the bell rings, giving Morgan a pleasant little wave and a giggle before zipping out of the room without another word. He eyes her funnily, but doesn’t say anything, picking up his bag and leaving.

~*~

Morgan, much to his own chagrin, does not wake up any more throughout the day no matter how many classes he snoozes through. Eventually, he gives up, until the final bell of the day rings and it’s time to idle about with Tracer for three hours until everyone in their group is free.

As usual, Lena is babbling away in his ear about something funny that had happened that day, but he was so out of it that it just kind of… Faded in and out. He would only nod and hum when he deemed it necessary as they mucked around the school grounds, trying his best to seem interested in what she was saying. It’s only when she stops suddenly that he takes notice to what was going on, and that’s only because Lena had grabbed hold of his jacket sleeve, and it jerked him with a sharp tug when he walked too far ahead of where she had planted herself in the ground.

“Wh-- What the hell?” He snaps, taking a few steps back so they were side-by-side again. Tracer was the one completely out of it now, as she stared straight ahead from where they were. Morgan snaps his fingers in front of her shades (which she’d tugged down as soon as they’d stepped outside), and she tugs on his jacket once again.

“Hey, love?” She asks, completely ignoring his question. “Do you ever see someone who reminds you just how  _ much _ you love the same sex?”

In the short time they’d been best friends, sexualities had very quickly been put on the table. Lena was completely open about her own, and while Morgan had been a little apprehensive, he decided soon enough that it would be nice to have someone else on his side for a change. Other than that, however, Morgan had learned almost instantaneously that there were few things on the planet Earth Tracer loved more than other women.

With a small hum, he tosses the question around in his head a few times, before conceding with a small mutter under his breath when a particular face comes into mind.

“... I can think of one or two people, yeah. Don’t really put much thought to it, honestly-- it’s not like it matters. Why?”

Tracer, bless her, doesn’t speak, instead only nodding in the general direction of where her attention had been captured. Morgan frowns and follows the trail, before his breath catches in his throat when he sees just who Lena had gotten all hot and bothered over.

About thirty meters in front of them, just outside of the other entrances to the school, stood Gabriel Reyes, Amélie Lacroix, and a girl who was only known to the student body as ‘Sombra’. Depending on who you asked, the three of them were either the coolest people in school, or the most dangerous.

Or, those were the rumors, at least. Morgan always just had Gabriel pinned as a whiny edgelord, Amélie as a stoic girl with a good fashion sense, and Sombra just as an eccentric. Although, there were times he’d seen them up to some… Shadier activities, and he stayed clear of them just in case. 

Narrowing his eyes, Morgan scans both of the women in the group, trying to see which one seemed to line up with Tracer’s taste.

“.... Amélie, the tall one?”

“Fuck,  _ yes. _ ”

Ah.

“... Tracer, don’t even think about it.”

Her feet are already moving before Morgan can get his protest out.

“No, Lena, do  _ not--! _ ”

“Sorry, love! Can’t live with myself if I don’t!”

And with that she’s off, marching straight for the group that masqueraded as the jaws of Hell. Morgan doesn’t follow her, instead facing out towards the road and pretending that he’s never seen her in his life.

That works for a solid minute and a half, but his conscience gets the best of him and makes him  _ try _ to rescue her before certain death. When he turns to look, however, he’s shocked at what was going on before him.

Lena was, unbelievably, alive and well. More than that, as a matter of fact. She seemed to be getting along with them just fine. Sombra certainly seemed to be having fun with her, and Amélie had a glint in her eyes that showed she wasn’t annoyed. Gabriel? Well… There’s never much of an expression on his face other than irritation or boredom. 

He regrets looking immediately after, however, when Lena decides to do the same thing at the same time. They make eye contact, and she waves at him once, causing the other three to turn their heads in his direction. He gives a small wave of his own once in return, and then Lena turns back to the group to chat away about… Whatever it was she was going on about.

After what seemed like an eternity, he gets a text from Jack, thankfully notifying him that the wait was over. With a hum, Morgan makes his way down past where Tracer and the others were standing, snapping his fingers once when he passed by.

As expected, Lena shows up next to him on their way to Jack’s truck. Morgan is surprised, however, when she jogs up to his side with a white stick between her lips, smoke coming out of the end.

“You smoke?” Morgan asks.

Lena winks at him, taking it between her fingers to speak;

“I do now.”

~*~

Tucked away in the corner of a coffee shop is Morgan’s favorite place to be. 

In the last few hours of sunlight, the air had turned cold, and the inside of the Starbucks was a nice refuge from the harsh wind. In front of Morgan was, as promised, a giant cup of hot chocolate, and a half-eaten slice of lemon cake(he’d decided against the muffin). Next to him sat Lena, who served as a foot rest once he kicked his shoes off. If she minded, she didn’t show it-- still chatting with everyone else at the table. Jack sat in front of him, the only one in a chair, and Fareeha and Angela were in the opposite corner of the round booth. The two girls had, inevitably, settled into each other, with Fareeha’s arm draped over Angela’s shoulders. She idly toyed with the loosened collar of the other girl’s work shirt, and Angela seemed more than content to rest her head on the egyptian’s chest. When they’d first gotten comfortable(after ten minutes of awkwardly shifting closer), Morgan had made eye contact with Jack, who had on this smug, almost proud sort of grin. The man waggled his eyebrows, and if Morgan hadn’t been so tired he would have blushed. He did retreat further into his corner, however, and refused to look at the blonde again afterwards. 

“So, Lena,” Fareeha says eventually, addressing the entire table and ending the small conversations amongst the individual groups. “Heard you tried to hit on Lacroix today. How’d that work out for you?”

Tracer grins. “You’re damn right, I did! I can’t just see someone like her and not introduce myself, yeah? It worked out-- I got her number!”

Morgan chokes on his coffee. Angela sits up a little more (and in doing so, maneuvers herself more into Fareeha’s lap). Tracer picks up on the unease, and raises an eyebrow.

“... What, didn’t think I could do it? I can be charming, you know!”

Morgan snorts, and Fareeha raises both of her brows, impressed. “No, no-- Not that. It’s just, well… Amélie isn’t the most approachable person. She’s a little cruel, truth be told.” 

“I hear she’s killed a man,” Morgan mutters. Fareeha rolls her eyes. Angela sniffs, and leans forward so she can talk to him. “Lacroix is the one who spends time with Reyes and that other girl?” 

At the mention of Gabriel, Jack noticeably tenses, and his usual easy, casual smile twists into a grimace. Fareeha eyes him curiously.

“Hey, yeah-- Weren’t you two friends, Morrison? You were inseparable in middle school, if I remember right. Mother always got onto you two when you’d get into trouble,” she chuckles. “What happened?”

Jack shrugs, dodging the question. “Went different ways, I guess. He hates my guts, now, though I don’t have a clue why.” He falls silent afterwards, clearly stewing over the idea. Nobody says a word for a minute afterwards, unsure of what there even was  _to_ say. Morgan eyes the jock uneasily, his heart lurching at how frustrated Jack seems to be about it.

“Don’t beat yourself up too much about it," Morgan pipes up. "Gabriel hates everything. You probably just forgot to text him back, or something,” he says, hoping to lighten the mood. Jack smiles at him in response, but it’s the sad sort of smile that doesn’t really make one want to smile back, and Morgan feels an uncomfortable lump in his throat at the expression.

Other than that slight speed bump, the evening goes on with all of them laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Fareeha and Angela are the first to leave-- Jack offers to drive them, but they insist on walking, as they live so close that it isn’t a hassle--, which leaves Jack, Morgan, and Lena all to themselves. Before the end of the night, Morgan manages to convince Jack to get him another hot chocolate, and after a few sips of that excuses himself to go to the bathroom, leaving the other man alone at the table with Lena.

When he’s sure Morgan isn’t in earshot, Jack leans in closer to the brit and lowers his voice to just above a whisper, as though he’s discussing something top-secret.

“So, what’s this thing we’re doing for Morgan’s birthday?”  He asks, resting his head on his fist and raising an eyebrow.

Tracer brightens up almost instantaneously, grinning like a child who knows about a surprise. “Well, he mentioned that every year they make Christmas cookies or whatever on his birthday! He didn’t seem too thrilled about it, though, and I can’t blame him-- they taste good and all that, but I’m sure he’d rather do  _ something _ fun. So, I figure-- we can go and help him out and spend the day with him, and go and get a cake and some gifts and whatnot to make it a party or something! I doubt he’d be allowed to ditch it, so I thought we’d just bring it to him, you got it?”

Jack nods to himself while Lena explains the details, leaning back and crossing his arms in thought. “... Okay, that sounds like it could work. Talk to his parents, obviously-- they’re a little strict sometimes, from what he’s let on. Other than that, it sounds good. Why involve me with it if you have it all figured out?”

Lena beams. “We need someone to get us there, love!”

“... Of _course_ you do,” Jack snorts, shaking his head and trying to sound irritated. He can’t help but chuckle and grin, though. Lena winks at him, and chucks up her fingers in a peace sign for good measure.

"Good to know we can count on ya, Jacky! I'm sure Morgan will thank you for it when all's said and done, too."

**Author's Note:**

> ao3 does not like emojis


End file.
